


I Push My Friends Into Glass Display Cases

by taylor_tut



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Gen, Lance (Voltron) Whump, Pain, Whump, glass wounds, owies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-24
Updated: 2017-04-24
Packaged: 2018-10-23 16:43:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10723236
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taylor_tut/pseuds/taylor_tut
Summary: Based on a prompt from my tumblr: Lance is pushed into a glass display case, and it shatters. The extraction process is not fun.





	I Push My Friends Into Glass Display Cases

The sound of glass shattering was deafening and Pidge cringed when she turned to see what had made the sound–Lance. Allura came stomping into the training room, looking livid. 

“What broke?” she asked, trying her best to sound patient and failing. When her eyes finally rested on the answer, her hands flew to her mouth and she gasped. Lance was sitting in the glass wreckage of a display case full of old weaponry. While none of the weapons had been damaged, it would seem, the protective glass had been shattered, and Lance’s arms were covered in bleeding cuts. There were surely more than even just what she could see. “Oh my–Lance, lie still. Hunk, go get Coran.” Hunk sprinted out of the room, and Lance lay still on the ground. “How did this happen?” she asked, looking sharply at Keith. 

“We were just fighting–like we always do. I was just playing around.”

“You pushed him?” Pidge accused, taking a subconsciously defensive step between Keith and Lance. 

“On accident,” Keith pleaded. “I’m sorry!”

“Don’t apologize to me,” Pidge said, “I’m not the one with broken glass in my back.” Keith turned to Lance, who was still unmoving but fully conscious in the pile of glass. 

“I really didn’t mean to,” Keith defended. 

“I know,” Lance replied with a lazy smile. “It’s fine.” His voice was tight with pain. 

Hunk entered the room with a dust pan and Coran followed closely behind him. 

“Pick him up and set him on a table, stomach down,” Coran instructed, “most of the glass will be in his back.” 

Sitting up was agonizing, as it meant shifting his weight, which shoved the glass shards further into his back and shoulders. Pidge and Allura grabbed either hand and guided him into a standing position, but even their gentle tugging was painful. Lance gritted his teeth against it and tried to look cool in front of the Princess, but his face had gone ghostly white. He was able to walk himself to the table and lie down with his arms dangling over either side. 

“We’re going to have to cut his shirt off him to avoid spreading the glass around,” Coran said. Keith took out his bayard.

“Don’t you think that’s a little overkill?” Lance laughed weakly. “Cutting my shirt off with a sword?”

Keith didn’t reply, simply slid the blade underneath Lance’s shirt and sliced through the fabric. Much of it was matted to his skin with blood, and it pulled out some of the larger glass pieces as he pulled.

“Ow ow _ow_ ,” Lance whined, “ _Jesus_ , Keith!” 

“Sorry, but there isn’t another way to do this,” Keith replied.

“Can’t you just jam me in a healing pod?” Lance asked hopefully. 

“Not before we remove the glass,” Allura shut him down sadly. “Otherwise your skin will just heal around the glass, and cause infection later.” Lance sighed. 

“So in other words,” he started,

“This is going to suck,” Pidge finished. 

“Fantastic. Bring it on,” Lance said with a flourish of his hand. 

The first few pieces weren’t so bad. They were small, and the skin was only minimally inflamed. However, with every piece of glass that Coran pulled out of Lance’s back with tweezers, more cuts formed on his back, angry and red. There was so much blood from all the small wounds combined that Coran could hardly see past it, and that only made things worse. While Lance had been able to grit his teeth for the first few shards, by the tenth, he was gripping Pidge’s hand, Keith’s by the fifteenth, and Keith lost count of how many Coran had removed by the time Hunk had to hold a bucket under his chin every time he tensed up gagging. 

“Can’t you give him anything for the pain?” Keith asked desperately as Lance cried out against the pain of a particularly rough extraction. 

“Any Altean painkillers or sedatives would increase his blood pressure. It’s not safe to give him anything when he’s got so many open wounds,” Allura replied. “I’m sorry, Lance; I know it hurts, starbabe; it’ll be over soon.”

“Starbabe?” Lance echoed in a voice raspy from restrained shouts. 

“It’s something my mother used to call me,” Allura cooed. “A child of the universe, infant of the cosmos. Starbabe.”

“Hmm,” Lance hummed, and Pidge couldn’t quite figure out if it was agreement, understanding, or just the effort of staying awake.

Coran had nearly filled a surgical bowl with glass by the time Lance finally passed out. 

“Please say you’re almost done,” Keith pleaded, using his free hand to stroke Lance’s hair. 

“Almost,” Coran replied gravely. “Just a bit longer.” Keith gritted his teeth–this was all his fault. 

“Lance is never going to forgive me for this,” he mulled. 

“You know he will,” Pidge shot back. “Whether he’ll let you live it down is a different story.”

“I can live with that,” Keith smiled sadly. “I deserve it.”

“Yeah, you do, mullet man,” Lance mumbled half-consciously. “You’re gonna have to make it up to me.”

“Anything,” Keith said, too quickly, forgetting for a moment that he was talking to Lance, and anything could really mean _anything_. 

Lance let his mouth slip into a lazy half-smirk. “I’ll think of something humiliating, don’t you worry,” he promised before letting his eyes slip closed again. 

A week later, Lance showed up at Keith’s door with a shaming sign that said “I push my friends into glass display cases" and a request to go to the space mall. Keith wore it begrudgingly. 


End file.
